


Brave new world

by seasidhe (sidhedcv)



Series: rebirth | mcreyes alternate universes [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Chronic Pain, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 19:24:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16939251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidhedcv/pseuds/seasidhe
Summary: Luckily, Gabriel Reyes can say he successfully overcame worse scenarios over the course of his life. Okay, maybe not worse than a nuclear apocalypse. He successfully overcame situationsalmost as badas a nuclear apocalypse.The war didn’t get me— he mutters to himself, organizing the ammo he just found in a recently deserted hideout —I’ll be damned if I let a fucking apocalypse get me.





	Brave new world

**Author's Note:**

> soo keep in mind that when Gabe talks about the past he's... kind of an unreliable narrator (and maybe, just maybe, one day i'll write that part of this story too).

It turns out being a survivor of a nuclear apocalypse is a little more difficult than what years and years of pop culture made everybody believe. There should have been a tv show focused on explaining the best ways to find the perfect hideout or to get enough food to survive. A movie focused on wondering what the first steps to take in a new world could possibly be. A dystopian novel that foresaw terroristic groups of omnics cracking nuclear launch codes and destroying half of the planet could have been useful. Something that would focus on coming up with ideas on how to survive a similar outlook could have been even better.

Luckily, Gabriel Reyes can say he successfully overcame worse scenarios over the course of his life. Okay, maybe not worse than a nuclear apocalypse. He successfully overcame situations _almost as bad_ as a nuclear apocalypse. 

 _The war didn’t get me —_ he mutters to himself, organizing the ammo he just found in a recently deserted hideout — _I’ll be damned if I let a fucking apocalypse get me_. Somewhere inside his mind, he’s sure he can hear Jack’s exasperated sigh — but he hides that thought with a lump in his throat.

Only when he’s sure his new stock is safe and sound where no one can find it, Gabriel allows himself to relax for a few minutes. For the ones surviving on their own, days are so full he almost sees those few moments as a small blessing.

“You think at this point they’d understand you can’t survive on your own,” an excited whisper comes from under a battered cowboy hat. There are four of them, hidden between the trees, with three other men as backups only a little further on. Not that they need backups: the rogue man makes the job a lot easier.

“Keep your voice down and do your job, McCree,” claps back the older one, yanking down the cowboy hat and gaining an outraged mumble as an answer.

McCree needs a few more seconds to find something to say — and what he finds doesn’t really help proving his bickering abilities. 

“It’s not like I was talking that loud.” 

The rest of the group stars protesting loudly and he’s forced to silence, hidden behind one of the trees that surround the hideout. 

The job is easy, though. It’s not the first time the boss sends him on a mission like that and by now Jesse is sure he gets the drill. 

First you locate an easy target — someone too old, too injured, too alone, anything that gives them an advantage — and then you place someone to keep an eye on the place. Couple days of monitoring, then dive right into action and _bam_ : more ammo, more food, more resources. 

 _In a world like this, everything that keeps you alive is the right thing to do —_ the boss repeats that sentence all the time and Jesse usually nods, his enthusiasm rarely clouded by fading memories of different life lessons. 

There’s still something that rubs him the wrong way, when he faces the idea of taking advantage of someone already struggling, but that feelings melts away under the enthusiasm of everyone else. The boss promised: if he does well, he’ll get more food than usual. And for now, that’s all Jesse can think of.

The fool who lives there alone has no idea what’s coming.

 

 _They can’t be that dumb. They must know I know. They’ve been watching me for the past two days, they must know I know._ Gabriel refuses to think they’re really _that_ dumb. He heard rumors of a fairly new criminal gang: they seem to manage the _violence_ part well enough, less so the brainy one. If he didn’t know they’re about to sneak into his house, kill him and take away everything he owns, he’d almost feel sorry for them. 

“You think he’s still sleeping?” the whisper comes not far away from where he’s hiding — sneaking outside when you’re half smoke isn’t that hard. 

Holding back that disapproving sound is almost too hard. 

Did they really sent folks so inexperienced they don’t know you shouldn’t talk out loud when your target is a few feet away? Those should be the foundation of any criminal group. He knows he’s been on Deadlock radar for some time and he’s almost offended by that sloppiness. 

The man who looks like he’s in charge smacks the head of the one who was talking before. “How many times do I have to tell you to shut up, McCree?” 

 _Apparently you need to tell him again_ Gabriel grunts to himself, sliding a little closer to them. 

“Sorry,” McCree mutters, glancing over his shoulder. The shiver that suddenly gets him isn’t as surprising as the string of smoke disappearing behind the trees. Jesse spends a couple of seconds wondering what was that and where did it came from — before he shakes his head and starts paying attention to the mission again. “When are we going in?”

“I’d say you’re _never_ going in,” replies a voice that seems to be coming simultaneously from all directions — and from everyone’s worst nightmares.

A few panicked seconds are enough for everyone to turn in every possible directions and still not find the position or the identity of the one who spoke. Jesse can’t make the cold shivers disappear — and he could bet his hat he just saw _something_ moving towards him. “What are you? Show yourself!” but the voice doesn’t answer and suddenly it’s chaos. 

Gabriel doesn’t know who shot first — he really hoped that farse would chase them off, but instead it turns out they’re even dumber, now. He doesn’t even know if the shot actually hit someone. The only thing he knows for sure is that he didn’t survive the goddamn apocalypse just to be killed by a random shot from a scared punk-ass kid. 

He would’ve killed them all, on another occasion. In another life he would’ve simply determined they were all criminals and that the world would be better without them. In another life, though. The apocalypse changed not only the whole world but also his way of looking at things. 

 _It wasn’t the apocalypse that changed things, Reyes. Being abandoned by the people you loved and trusted in the middle of a nuclear fallout, changed your way of looking at things._ There goes the voice inside his head, promptly hushed. This is definitely not the right time. 

That little talk in his head happened in the span of a few seconds — still long enough for one of the dumbass to shoot again. 

Gabriel knows he has no time to loose, so he steps in as quickly as he can. Screams and chaos ensues when coils of black smoke appear out of nowhere and start throwing men around. There are sounds that seems to be coming from the depths of hell, screams of sheer terror, other screams of sheer terror and even more screams of sheer terror. A third gunshot, Gabriel grunting. Silence. 

“How did you do that?” asks someone behind him and for a few seconds Gabriel is too busy swearing because of the pain to understand the implication of what’s happening. Someone shot him, with a millimeter accuracy, in the exact moment his shoulder became tangible again. 

If he wasn’t a war veteran, if he wasn’t used to see soldiers and recruits, recruits and soldiers, he’d think this was just a coincidence. But Gabriel Reyes is Gabriel Reyes and that is a thug with a fucking good aim. 

“How did you do that stuff?” the cowboy asks again, the revolver pointing straight at him — and if he wasn’t still in shock he’d probably laugh at this nonsense. The years is 2070 and there’s a cowboy pointing a revolver at him. What the hell is going on.

“Put the gun down, kid.”

“I’m not a kid and I wanna know how you did that.”

“You’re in no position to bargain.”

“You’re in no position to bargain! In case you didn’t notice, you have a gun point—” but that sentence is abruptly interrupted by the sudden awareness that no, the gun isn’t in the hands of its rightful owner. 

“How—”

“Are you really going on? Go back to your _partners_.”

“They’ll be back with the rest of the gang, you know that, right?”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to be ready for that moment.”

“And what makes you think I wanna be on the other side, when you’ll bust everyone’s asses?”

“What— and which side would you want to be on?” 

“Yours, of course!” 

Gabriel finds himself looking straight into the boy’s eyes for a few seconds. Those few seconds are enough for him to doubt what’s happening: what if throwing him one hundred feet away isn’t enough to make him go away? 

As usual, his doubts and instincts are more accurate than he’d like. 

“I told you to leave at least a week ago, what’s so hard to understand in _I live alone and I don’t want you here?”_

“I understood just fine. I just happen to think you’ll change your mind.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

“It’s about to rain and we can’t be sure it’s not acid rain. And I reckon you wouldn’t leave me out there.”

“... Damnit.” 

 

McCree is circling around him like an overexcited puppy, making the whole _getting close to the objective without being detected_ almost impossible. If he wasn’t sure of the cowboy’s abilities, Gabe could almost think he’d made a mistake bringing him. 

He has no intention of messing up a relatively easy operation. There are people who pay him handsomely — with clothes, food and ammo — to take care of unwanted _elements_ and Gabriel is in no condition to decline. Remarkably, surviving in the world after a nuclear fallout is fucking difficult. 

“One day you’re gonna explain what happened to you,” and that’s probably the fourth time, since the beginning of the day, that question comes up. In fact, that question came up roughly seven times a day, every day, for three months. With a quick mental count he determines the total number of questions received is _way too many_. 

“I already said we’ll see,” Gabriel replies, hiding a smile that could jeopardize his whole broody look. 

The kid — Gabriel knows he shouldn’t call him _kid,_ since he’s not actually a kid, but he can't help it — likes to bother him and to see him annoyed. And who is he to deny him that small pleasure? 

“You’re boring,” McCree claps back, smiling from ear to ear. “Tell me something new, kid.” 

 

“What animal is that?”

“I have no idea.”

“There are too many heads, it can’t be—”

“I don’t wanna know. Saddle up, cowboy.” 

 

Having to leave the hideout for the second time in six months is something Gabriel hadn’t foresee and something he really isn’t used to. He can try as much as he wants but he simply can’t get rid of the discomfort he feels. 

“One day you’re gonna explain me how you ended up in that fucking gang,” he suddenly snaps, throwing the supplies in their bag with too much strength. 

“I reckon I don’t have to answer your questions, if you don’t answer mine.” 

“Last time I checked, you started following me. I have the right to know whatever the fuck I want.” 

“That ain’t fair.”

“Imagine how fair would it be to sleep in the forest, tonight.”

Jesse groans as loud as he can, trying to ignore Gabe’s amused grin and, mostly, trying to repress his own. Learning he can easily joke around Gabe is probably the best discovery of his new life. 

“I don’t know. It just happened.”

“You don’t usually “just happen” to join a gang.”

“That’s the truth, though. I was young, I was alone and I needed to survive. Surviving is a nice thing,” Jesse laughs and pretends he doesn’t notice Gabe’s bitter look. 

 

“Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“You really like it?”

“I can’t believe you managed to cook something so good out of— almost nothing?”

“In Deadlock you kinda had to make do with what you had, so I’m used to this.” 

 

They develop a steady routine that includes some brief moments made of almost random questions — brief moments that they both enjoy, moments that help them understand each other better. Moments that make their existence look almost normal. 

“I’ve always wondered why you’re dressed like a cowboy,” Gabriel whispers in the silence of the night, looking at the bonfire burning in front of them. He’s not even sure Jesse is still listening or still awake. 

“People used to dress like this, from where I come.”

“... And where do you come from?”

“South.”

“And how do you know your _people_ dressed like this?”

“There was a book with lots of picture and everybody were cowboys. And anyway, what do you know about _Before_?” “More than you know.” 

 

“Is it normal that your face now has two mouths?”

“It depends on what you think is normal.”

“... Is this something that happens?”

“... Let’s just say it happened before.” 

 

“I keep wondering something,” Jesse’s voice suddenly interrupts the forest’s silence but Gabriel is too focused following the tracks to find a way to scold him. 

“Just one thing?” 

“Ah, aren’t you funny,” Jesse claps back, mocking him. “I’m serious, I’ve got a question to ask you.” 

“I’m serious too: just one question?”

Gabriel ignores Jesse’s snort and keeps moving along the marked path, eyes on the few signals that point out that the creature they’re following is really been there. 

“How come you know so many things about _Before_? I’ve never known someone who knew as many things as you.” 

Gabriel remains silent for a few seconds, trying to act casual and keeping his head down. He knows he can’t escape that question forever; on the other side, he might avoid it for some time more. 

“I think that means you were born _Before._ So that means you lived all of that? And that means you had to be one of the people in the bunkers? And if you were one of them, why are you alone now? Where are the others?” 

“Look, the trail goes that way, we’re close,” Gabriel tries to distract him, but he’s far too aware of McCree’s piercing eyes. 

 

“What exactly happens when you turn into smoke?”

“... Basically what you just said”.

“Yeah but like, how does that happen? Is that something you’ve always had? Is that like a family gift? Are you some kind of creature—”

“If you keep going I’ll ditch your ass in the forest”. 

 

There are clouds with shapes that Jesse tries to identify, just to make the time go by — and he’s pretty sure the sunset shouldn’t have _those_ color. Well, it doesn’t matter: one of the few positive sides of the apocalypse. 

“When are you gonna tell me what happened?” he asks, almost casually, glancing at Gabe. The other man is lying down beside him with his eyes closed, and if Jesse didn’t knew him better, he could almost think he’s sleeping. He knows perfectly well that Gabe is just resting. He wouldn’t fall asleep like that, far away from their hideout, without having checked the perimeter before and having handled the _security matter_. 

“Why do you care so much about what happened?” he answers after a few minutes of silence, just like that. McCree stays silent, not sure what to say next. 

He could tell him that he just want to know: it would be true. He could tell him that he wants to know because it’s unfair that after more than two years he still doesn’t know something that important. He could stress the fact that it’s unfair that Gabe doesn’t trust him. He could insist that it’s his right to know. All of these things are parts of what Jesse thinks. 

“Because I wanna know if I can help you.” 

Reyes remains silent for a considerable amount of time and once again Jesse is sure he won’t get the answer he seeks. 

“I wasn’t _selected_ for the bunkers of the future survivors. I was in Los Angeles when it all happened, the radiations made _this_ happen,” those words come one after another, almost without pause. Gabriel can sense Jesse’s sharp look and suddenly speaking feels just too much. 

“Well, this is all you’re gonna get.” 

McCree doesn’t answer. After a while, he reaches out and touches his hand — lingering on those wisps of smoke that brush up against his skin. 

“Thank you.” 

 

“Do you need something?”

“Why would I need something?”

“’Cause I see you’re in pain, it’s not like I’m dumb.”

“It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last time. I’ve got this, Jesse.” 

 

“Like hell you’re gonna leave me now, McCree, like hell you’re gonna leave me”. 

It’s the first time in years that Gabriel talks with such anxiety in his voice. Jesse heard him angry, happy, in pain, amused and annoyed. A couple of times he almost got him flustered — even though Gabe keeps denying that. 

 _Scared_ , though, is something Jesse never thought he could relate to the other man. In a way Jesse can’t really understand, Gabriel and fear seem to exclude each other. 

“You are not allowed to—” and for a split second, Gabe’s voice is once again the same shade of steel as the first time he met him. Jesse smiles: now he recognizes him. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Gabe,” he manages to say between the coughs, trying not to think about that red stain that keeps expanding on his clothes. When he thinks about it, it’s weird Reyes isn’t pissed of. _I’ve told you so many times you shouldn’t wander off alone! I’ve told you so many times they’d come back for you! I’ve told you so many times so many different things and all that stuff._ The fact is Gabe should be pissed of but instead all Jesse can see is panic. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I swear Gabe—” 

“Remind me to kick your ass when you’ll feel better,” and somehow Jesse is pretty sure Gabriel won’t really need a reminder. 

 

“If you need to go away, remember to take everything you need and tell me exactly where you’re going and—” 

“You do remember I’ve lived with you for the past four years, right?”

“I remember, but this doesn’t change the fact that—”

“That you worry about me? I know, I know.” 

 

Jesse is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at him with concern. 

Gabriel is trying his best to keep down his own grunts of pain, with little success. The constant pain is usually bearable. It’s not debilitating, it doesn’t stop him from doing things he’d do normally, it doesn’t force him to stay in bed. There are moments, though, in which the pain gets so strong and so intense that Gabriel can’t pretend he’s fine. 

“What do I do? What do you want me to do?” 

The anxiety in McCree’s voice is strong enough to convince Gabe that it’d be better if he just send him away. It’s not the first time he has to face one of those crisis alone, and it won’t be the last one. 

But in the exact moment Gabriel tries to tell him to go, Jesse throws away hat and boots and simply lies down next to him, wrapping him in a swift hug. 

“What—” Gabriel tries to ask, but that sentence never makes past his throat. It’s been years since his last physical touch, years since the last time someone touched him without the intention of hurting him. 

McCree is smaller than him in every way, with a body that seems to be made out of knees and elbows and sharp edges; and yet Jesse’s holding him like that hug means the world. Like he’s holding something precious. 

Gabe can’t remember the last time someone touched him like that. Gabe remembers far too well _— remembers blond hair and a clean scent and the warmth of someone else and a voice that managed to lead him out of the worst nights —_ the last time someone touched him like that. 

Jesse’s hug has something different, though, and it doesn’t matter how hard he tries: Gabriel can’t explain why. 

 

“Have you ever thought about finding the people you knew _Before_?”

“They’re all dead.”

“I mean the ones in the bunkers.”

“The ones in the bunkers are dead to me.” 

 

The nights when Gabriel’s pains are stronger become more and more difficult to bear and Jesse isn’t sure when this all started. 

At first it was just bad enough sto see him suffer, to hear him suffer — Gabe took care of him, taught him everything he knew, helped him survive and even helped him live a decent life. Seeing him suffer has never been nice. 

But now, now everything’s different. After years of living together, seeing Gabe in that state is enough to physically hurt. 

“Gabriel,” he calls, his voice low, almost hoping he doesn’t answer. If he doesn’t answer that means he’s asleep, and if he’s asleep that means the pain has decreased even just a little. 

But Gabriel answers — with some sort of suffering rattle that almost breaks Jesse’s heart. “Still that bad?” he asks, already knowing the answer. Nothing he did until now was useful and Gabriel seems in worse shape that usual. 

“Bad,” is what Gabe manages to say, struggling to settle in the bed. Jesse remains silent for a few seconds, before tucking in the bed with him, ignoring Gabe’s weak complaints and holding him in his own arms. 

“When did you become so strong?” Gabe mumbles weakly, when he realizes what just happened. Jesse picked him up and is now holding him as close as he can to his own body — to that heat source that seems to help a little. 

“Don’t speak, just try to feel better,” Jesse murmurs between his hair, settling down to make him as comfortable as he can; “I’ve got you.” 

“You’ve got me, hm?” claps back Gabe, with a smile that gives away all the gratitude he’s feeling in this moment. 

 

“I know this is not what we usually do but—” 

“You’re in too much pain to take care of the new job. I’ve got you, don’t worry. I’m a big boy.” 

“Thank you, Jesse.”

“Don’t even say that.” 

 

“You think this life is that bad?” 

“Life after apocalypse? No, it’s a piece of cake. Nuclear radiations are a marvel, acid rain is so damn fun; the lacking of food is something you really wanna try”. 

Jesse snorts loudly, trying to annoy Gabe; he really doesn’t want to move, though. They’ve been sitting just outside their new hideout, in the tall grass, and Jesse is currently resting his head on Gabe’s lap, trying to enjoy that moment of peace. 

“Other than that.” 

“What’s other than that? Gangs of thugs killing innocent people? Sleeping with an eye open to avoid ending up dead?” 

“Fine, fine, I get it,” Jesse mumbles, averting his eyes from Gabe’s face and trying to pretend he doesn’t really care about what just happened. And why should he care? Gabriel is right. How could he find something positive in this life? After being alone like that, for all those years; with all the pain he’s forced to bear every time his body decides to stop functioning correctly? 

“It’s not like this life is bad. This life is a living hell.” 

They both remain silent for a few minutes and when Jesse is about to change subject, Gabriel precedes him. 

“Maybe this life sucks less if you’re not alone,” he whispers, almost inaudibly, gazing into the distance, into the horizon. “If you have someone to share all this stuff with, someone who wants to help when you really need it.” 

Jesse is sure Gabe can hear his heart beating louder than usual — but at the same time he can’t find anything to say. 

“Maybe,” Gabe keeps going as if he didn’t noticed, as if he was just small talking. “Maybe when there’s someone you really love, this life is somehow less of a living hell”. 

They both remains silent after those words. They both are far too aware of the inside uproar of their feelings and of all the things they didn’t say. At the same time what just happened seems so _right_ that neither of them worries too much. It’s like everything is going the way it should be. 

 

“I hate we have to leave another hideout”.

“I know, Jesse. I feel the same way.”

“This time is worst though. It feels like we’re leaving behind...”

“A piece of us? I know, Jesse, I know.” 

 

“How are you feeling today?” it’s the first thing Gabriel hears, when he wakes up: Jesse’s quiet voice next to his ear and arms that hold him in a familiar hug. He’ll never stop wondering exactly _when_ Jesse grew up so much — it doesn’t matter how hard he tries, there’s always a _Jesse before_ and a _Jesse after_. 

“Better than last night,” he mumbles, enjoying those quiet moments as much as he can; when he tries to untangle, though, unlike all the other times, he find himself held even more tightly in Jesse’s arms. 

Gabe turns to look at him with a questioning gaze — but Jesse remains still, without reacting, just looking at him with those piercing eyes.  

“Jesse?” the silence is still there and for the first time in his whole life, Gabriel doesn’t know what to do. He knew what to do when he was a soldier, he knew what to do in front of the apocalypse, he knew what to do after a nuclear fallout. And now? Now he doesn’t know how to act, not when he feels the way he feels. 

Jesse suddenly smiles, like he understands exactly everything Gabriel is thinking — and maybe that’s really the case: Jesse managed to amaze him so many times in so many years. Jesse suddenly smiles and then bends slightly over him, until he’s brushing Gabriel’s lips in a chaste kiss. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he whispers against his lips — and despite his surprise, Gabe would have to be blind not to notice that Jesse is asking for his permission to go on.

“I’m glad too,” that’s all he says, slipping his fingers through Jesse’s long hair and kissing him back.

Neither one of them could point out the exact moment when they realized surviving isn’t everything — and yet both know that in that moment, everything changed. 


End file.
